


Cold is the Night (Zutara Week 2020)

by gwenavery



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Zutara Week, Zutara Week 2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25495837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwenavery/pseuds/gwenavery
Summary: "Steady is the hand that's come to termsWith the lessons it has had to learnI've seen the things that I must doBut Lord, this road is meant for twoSo I am waiting here for you"- Cold is the Night (The Oh Hellos)My submissions for Zutara Week (2020). Prompts are independent, but follow a linear narrative starting five years post-war. (With the exception of Day Four)
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	1. Reunion

> _“Once he's gazed upon her, a man is forever changed_
> 
> _The bravest men return with darkened hearts and phantom pain_
> 
> _Ages come and go, but her life goes on the same_
> 
> _She lives to see the sun and feel the wind and drink the rain_
> 
> _Her colors change to mark the passing of the days_
> 
> _No Earthly sight can match the beauty she displays_
> 
> _And when I die I want her lying by my side_
> 
> _In my grave, in my grave”_
> 
> _\- La Belle Fleur Sauvage (Lord Huron)_

* * *

The arctic wind was bitter cold, but the sight of the Southern Water Tribe as he rounded the iceberg filled him with warmth. Unlike its northern sister, with its white, impenetrable walls. Only a wide harbor filled with ships and sea birds, separated the frigid ocean from the village.

No great citadel greeted him, no sparkling palace. Yet, it was not the same tribe as years past. Gone were the huts and animal skin tents. A broad path in the snow led from the port to a neat cluster of igloos nestled at the snow covered foot of the mountains, cradled by a low wall. The only permanent settlement was the low rotunda of sculpted ice and snow that crowned the village. The home of the Southern Tribe winked with fire light in the eternal dawn.

Fire Lord Zuko breathed in the crisp, familiar scent of brine and metallic snow, as his cruiser dropped anchor in the harbor. In minutes his motor boat reached the shore, and his breath of fire was the only thing keeping him from shivering right out of his parka. Summer or not, Zuko was chilled to the bone.

Three figures greeted him on the docks of ice. All were male, tall and broad. One broke away and as he grew closer his voice carried over the arctic wind, until he was only a few feet away.

“Gran Gran will be happy to see you wearing the parka she made you, though… the matching toboggan seems to be missing.”

Zuko smiled as he was enveloped into an embrace, “Hello, to you too, Sokka.”

The warrior gave him a quick squeeze and pulled back, his characteristic grin plastered on his face. Zuko looked down at his previously mentioned navy blue parka. It was cut in the Fire Nation style, and lined with white fur. “Well, I couldn't refuse a gift from a foreign dignitary, especially one that was handmade for me.”

“Certainly not, parkas of that quality can take an entire winter to hand stitch. To have one made for you is a declaration of trust, sacred to our tribe.” Zuko looked up to the second Warrior, taller than Sokka, but narrower in the shoulders. The firebender bowed formally,

“General Bato,”

There was a bark of laughter, and the third man joined the group, “General... that’s a good one.”

The tall warrior rolled his eyes, “What would you prefer, Hakoda, ‘Igloo-maker in Chief’?”

The leader of the southern Water Tribe threw his arm around the warriors shoulders and smiled, “As long as it's not my igloo.”

There was another round of chuckles, and Hakoda grasped Zuko’s forearm in a formal greeting.

“You really should take care of that parka. Bato’s not kidding, they do take all winter and you know how long those are around here.”

“I’ll be sure to express my gratitude to Kanna when I see her.”

“Glad to hear it,” Hakoda smiled softly, but his eyes turned more earnest, and he placed a strong hand on Zuko’s shoulder. The Fire Lord’s guards didn't even flinch. Snow swirled absentmindedly around the group in the moments before the chief spoke, “I believe we have some things to discuss.”

Zuko nodded, his hand dipping unconsciously into the pocket of his parka, “yes, we do.”

* * *

Talking could wait, apparently, as Zuko and the rest of his crew were loaded up into sleds (recently reintroduced to the tribe's way of life, after they finally had enough food to feed arctic dogs as well as themselves) and taken to the village. It was bigger up close, but barely larger than the smallest of villages in his home country. Children trailed after them, and Zuko smiled as Captain Jee sent little spirals of sparks, like fireworks, towards their awed faces.

Sokka was giving him a very speedy tour, pointing out new landmarks and trying to explain who lived in what igloo, before they passed by in a shower of kicked up snow. The main gathering building of the tribe was circular and sprawling. Multiple branches and bubbles of different rooms peaked out of the drifts of snow. The ship's crew was taken to the temporary barracks to get cleaned up before the feast that the tribe's women had prepared. Zuko was led to the guest house he usually occupied on his visits.

Zuko tried to refuse any big ta-do about his arrival. It wasn't even an official visit. He knew that even if the tribe was quickly bouncing back after the war, that there wasn't much food to spare. However, the tribe members had been insistent, and he couldn't really argue.

He followed Sokka around the backside of the rotunda to the igloos and huts that Chief Hakoda’s family and visitors used.

He tried not to let his eyes drift to the home nestled between his and the chief’s. It’s doorway was dark, no smoke curled from its chimney, and from the snow drifted against the door, it had not been entered in a while.

_That’s a good thing_ , he said to himself. He wasn’t very convincing.

“You know, I'm surprised you haven't asked about her yet.”

Zuko stilled at the door of his igloo, a now familiar place. He let his eyes linger next door.

“I know she’s not here, and that’s how I wanted it to be, so…” he trailed off.

“What has it been? Six months?” Sokka continued past him carrying Zuko’s trunk with little effort. He set it down by the large cot and bed roll. Zuko sighed and followed suit. The space was immediately warmer than the outside air. The curtain of a door settled behind him.

“Seven… and three quarters.” He grabbed a tea kettle and set it on the small cooking fire at the center of the single room house. Sokka plopped down on the cushions around the pit, arranging them so he could comfortable lounge back.

“Hey, I haven't seen Suki in almost five months. I mean,” there was a grunt as Sokka removed his boots, “It's not quite the same, since me and Suki are technically married and you guys…” Sokka seemed to struggle for the right thing to say. In the meantime Zuko removed his own boots and parka, which had grown hot, and ran a hands through his unbound hair. He had kept it roughly the same length for the past five years.

“We agreed that this was the best thing for everyone. Katara’s where she's needed, and so am I.” Sokka raised a critical brow, but just shrugged.

“And, I'm sure your visit here has nothing to do with ‘being where you're needed’” Zuko shot him a withering look. Sokka had the decency to look sheepish.

“Hey,” the warrior raised his hands in surrender, “I only speaking the truth.”

Zuko wasn’t quite ready to face the truth.

He wasn’t ready, because the truth frightened him. It kept him up at night. It made him lose focus in meetings and it made him count the days between every time he saw her. He knew the truth, and he didn’t want to hear it.

“Well, buddy, I’m just glad you’re here.” Zuko looked up from inspecting the tea pot, and smiled, ever so slightly,

“Me too.”

* * *

The meal was no feast or ball, but the entire village gathered in the largest and center-most room of the rotunda. The tribe’s numbers, with it’s warriors returned, and half a decade of peace, had grown to nearly 200. Yet, the room didn't feel cramped as everyone piled onto cushions around low dining tables. Even when Zuko’s crew and personal guards (who where only there on principle, Zuko had never felt safer than among the Southern Water Tribe), joined the company, the crowded space felt comfortable and warm.

Zuko has been placed in the seat of honor, at the left hand of chief Hakoda, and the right hand of Kanna, the chief's mother, and the village’s elder. As per tradition, the youngest of the group and the unmarried women served the rest of the tribe before eating. Sokka told him once, that the action was to reinforce loyalty and represent how they serve their tribe first, until they marry, or become adults.

The food was traditional water tribe cuisine, made by collective effort of the women, both married and unmarried, of the tribe.

Platters of roasted fish, and savory rein-caribou meat was served, alongside various stews and cooked greens. sea prunes, clams, and other crustaceans were also distributed. The food, like the tribe who made it, was hearty. It was salty, and fatty, and so unlike the hot spices and complicated recipes of his Zuko’s homeland. The Fire Lord hadn’t had a meal as delicious in a long time.

The room was filled with chattering voices and laughing children, muffled by the animal pelts and cushions they all lounged on. Everyone had striped their outer clothes off, and the parkas joined the piles of furs surrounding the group. People moved from table to table, catching up on the day's activities and trading jokes and stories. Even, the older warriors took special interest in comparing notes with Zuko's crew on sailing techniques. Every member of the tribe, from the oldest widow, to the mother’s with their tiny babies, came to Zuko’s table and greeted him formally. Zuko gave them a warriors handshake or a bow, according to their age. Some of the children brought him tiny, crude, carvings of bone, made in the shapes of animals or people. In return, he bestowed a carefully wrapped cake from the satchel at his side into their tiny hands. The pastries were crunchy on the outside and impossibly soft on the inside; shaped like lotus flowers. They were straight from the royal kitchens, and Zuko pretended not to notice when they came back for seconds.

Zuko barely had time to eat the food that had been piled onto his plate, between greeting the tribe, and joining into the discussions at his own table, but he made do.

“So, young man,” Zuko turned from giving a little girl her third pastry, to Kanna. The older woman had finished her bowl of stew, and was now working on the delicate and complex embroidery on a deep blue parka. “What is it you plan to do with all those carvings the children are giving you?”

Zuko smiled, and turned to look at the small army of animals he had absentmindedly arranged in rows next to his table setting.

“I’ll probably put them with the others. I have a glass bureau in my office that holds some of the gifts I’ve received from other dignitaries. The children’s carvings have their own shelf.” The carvings had become a sort of tradition every time he came to visit.

She chuckled, it was a rumbling, gravelly sound, “I can’t imagine these next to the rich items you must get.”

Zuko picked up the carving closest to him. It was a black wolf-whale. The little boy who had given it to him, had charred the bone to mimic the pattern of black and white splotches of the animal in real life.

“Yeah, but these are my favorite.”

He ran his hands along the upright fin on its back.

Kanna smiled quietly to herself and returned to her embroidery.

Slowly, as the night went on, the children grew tired, and their parents bid last goodbyes to the members of Zuko’s table. And as the kids were rebundled up and carried, sleepily, back to their own homes, the rest of the village filed out as well. The younger men and women exited in groups, or pairs, laughing heartily together, to spend time among themselves. The widows and widowed warriors bore their own farewells. Soon, even the village elders grew sore of sitting and talking and eating, and went their own ways, wishing the guidance and protection of the spirits in the dreams of their chief, his family, and the Fire Lord.

The dishes had been cleared away much earlier in the night, so when Hakoda led them into a hall toward a small study, they left the gathering room quiet and empty.

Zuko rose from his seat, and extended his elbow to Kanna, who excepted it with a pat to his for arm and a smile.

“Such good manners.” She praised. Zuko felt himself blush.

The adjacent room was furnished with low couches and a stone fireplace that peaked out of the white ice walls. More thick pelts lined the floor. Zuko recognized the large maple shelves and desk as those he gifted Hakoda himself, made of the finest Fire Nation lumber.

Sokka, Kanna, Bato, and Zuko all settled into the couches, as the Chief pulled out a dark blue glass bottle from the bottom drawer of his desk. He poured each member of the group a drink of the clear liquid, before he sat on another one of the couches, instead of his high backed desk chair.

Zuko took a sip, and tried not to wince as the alcohol burned his throat. Immediately, he was warmer than before. He watched the others. Zuko knew what was coming.

Hakoda took a very slow sip of his drink, and turned to the firebender.

“I’m assuming you didn't sail all the way down to the South Pole to take in the scenery.”

Zuko swallowed, as they all turned their attention to him.

“No, no I didn't.” he took another drink, stealing his nerves, then placed the glass down.

“Me and Katara have discussed it, at length.” Zuko found that Kanna’s stare was level and calm, he felt reassured. “She thinks it’s the best thing for us, and I agree.” Zuko looked around the room.

“We want, no… we're _going_ to get married.”

Zuko didn’t know what reaction he would receive, he had been obsessing over what Katara’s family would say, what they would do, since the idea of marriage first entered his mind. He expected it would involve being forcefully thrown into the arctic ocean. The sensible part of his mind knew there was nothing to worry about, since almost immediately after him and Katara had announced their courtship her family, and her tribe, had accepted him as one of their own (Bato had even teased them about step-grand children). Yet, the other voice in his head still haunted him with fears of rejection. But, Hakoda only sat up, placed his glass down, looked into Zuko’s eyes, and waited for him to continue.

So Zuko did.

“We know that it’s not going to be easy. We know that it will be dangerous. We know that we each have responsibilities and duties, and I respect hers and she respects mine. We’ve been considering it for a while now, and it's what we both want. I know that relations between my nation and yours, are...tense, but they're getting better, and there's people where I’m from that won’t like it, but I think that together, we can show that the four nations can coexist and that the Fire Nation cares about reperatio-”

Hakoda held up a hand, Zuko went silent, he swallowed again.

The chief looked deep into his eyes, Zuko didn't break the contact.

“I don’t care what your union means politically. I don’t care what message it will send to the other nations, what message it will send for your people, son. I just want to know one thing.”

“Anything.”

“Do you love her?”

Immediately, he answered, “Yes,” his hand settled on his chest, between his two lungs, where he knew the scar sat, “with all my heart.”

Zuko looked around the room, each pair of bright blue eyes were fixed on him.

“I don’t know when I started to, maybe it was the day of the comet, maybe before, maybe after, but when I asked her to come with me to fight my sister and regain my throne, I knew it had to be her that came. I love Katara, but before that, I trust her. I trust her with my life. I trust her with my people and my country. I would die for her.”

Zuko felt it then, the ghost of the pain, the exhilaration, the fear as he watched Azula take aim. “Taking that lightning was the easiest thing I’ve ever done, and I would do it again, ten thousand times over.”

Bato spoke next, “And she feels the same way?”

Zuko thought, for a second, replaying the last five years in his mind. The image that lingered in his mind was the flashes of blue fire through clear water as she battled Azula, risking her life to defeat the most dangerous firebender in the world, just to save him.

He smiled, gently, “Yes, I know she does.”

Kanna’s face was stone, “You swore an oath to serve your people and your country? Is that correct Fire Lord Zuko?”

He nodded. The elder looked him in the eye. He felt like she was looking deep into his soul.

“In our culture, the marriage vow outweighs any oath to lord or land. Katara must come first, before your throne, before your crown. The binding of two souls is far more ancient than any border or king, as old as the very first marriage of the spirits Tui and La. The promise you will make to each other trumps any other loyalty, and will last beyond your last breath, into the next life. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I do.” he instinctively reached into his pocket, “The only reason Katara doesn't know I’m here is because she would say that asking for permission from the bride's family was an outdated tradition,” Sokka smirked at that, “but I also know how much your good opinion means to her, and I don’t want to hide anything from you.

“I want to do this by the book, so I’m here, to ask you personally,” he looked from person to person, “do me and Katara have your blessing for our union?”

There was silence in the room. No one moved. Zuko barely breathed.

Then Kanna rose, slowly. Instinctively Zuko moved to help her but she held up a withered hand and crossed over to him.

"Kneel, and close your eyes.”

Zuko did.

He felt her brush her fingers across his forehead.

“Now,” he looked up, “I, Kanna, matriarch of the Southern Water Tribe, mother to Hakoda, grandmother to Sokka and Katara, grant you my blessing, and the blessings of the spirits for your union.” She looked behind her, “Does anyone present of the bride's family object to the bestoying of the blessing?”

The only response was Sokka’s wide grin. Kanna nodded, and returned to her seat. Zuko stood, he couldn't hide the joy on his face, he bowed, low, to each person in the room.

“So,” Hakoda dawned a smile for himself, “have you carved the necklace?”

* * *

Later that night, Sokka walked Zuko back to his igloo. After Zuko’s announcement there were multiple rounds of celebratory drinks, and the pair was distinctly drunk. The southern warrior threw his arm around the other man’s shoulders as they neared the entrance.

“You know, Zuko…” He burped, “we all knew it was a matter of time before you asked her. Dad just put you through all those formalities to make you sweat.”

Zuko chuckled, “Well, it worked.”

His friend, and soon to be brother-in-law, turned to him, seriously, "You also have to know Zuko, that if Katara was here she would object to you asking us not just because it's and 'outdated tradition' but because there's no question that our answer would be 'yes'."

The Fire Lord looked at the ground, "I just... wanted to be sure."

Sokka shook his head, placing a hand on Zuko's shoulder, "We love you, Zuko. Everyone does. Honestly, I think Gran-gran likes you more than me, which hurts, but whatever," he shrugged, "bottom line, your an important part of this family, and you were long before you an Katara started sucking face." Zuko couldn't hold back a snort of laughter, 

"I know, but sometimes it's hard, I'm not used to the whole 'unconditional love' stuff." he looked back, across the shining tops of the tribe, "you all just make it look so... _easy._ "

Sokka laughed, "Yeah, tell that to dad the next time I loose blueprints." 

He ruffled Zuko's hair, and returned to his position leaning on him.

“So, when are you formally popping the question?”

The firebender's eyes traveled over to Katara’s igloo next door, then to the lights of the harbor beyond, and the twinkling stars and moon reflected in the still water.

“She comes back from Ba Sing Se in three weeks, so I figured as soon as she got home.”

Katara’s brother nodded, then grasped each of Zuko’s shoulders, making him look into his eyes, “That means you're staying long enough for bro time?” his brow was furrowed in absolute seriousness.

“I wouldn’t dream of anything else.”


	2. Counterpart

> _“Bring me some hope_
> 
> _By wandering into my mind_
> 
> _Something to hold onto_
> 
> _Morning, noon day, or night_
> 
> _You are the light that is blinding me_
> 
> _You're the anchor that I tied to my brain_
> 
> _'Cause when it feels like I'm lost at sea_
> 
> _You're the song I sing again and again”_
> 
> _-_ The Anchor (Bastille)

* * *

Zuko didn’t know what to say. **  
**

She closed his hand around the smooth stone.

“Katara, I...I can’t take this.”

“Yes, you can.” she pushed it towards his chest,

“No, I won’t let you.”

“Zuko,” she squeezed his hand, and furrowed her brow. His throat closed. “You’re not _letting_ me do anything.”

He opened his palm and looked at the necklace, _her_ necklace, _her mother’s_ necklace

“But,”

Katara sighed, “Here,” she took it from him. A weight flew off his shoulders, but she just grabbed his bare wrist and slowly wrapped the blue silk around it. 

“Zuko, you want to get married, right?” He tried to open his mouth and agree, but no sound came out, he just nodded. His eyes didn’t leave her calloused tan hands, “Well, then I’m giving this to you.” She finished. The stone, and it's all too familiar design, rested on the inside of his wrist, against his pulse.

She moved her hand to cradle his left cheek. They were a cool salve to his scar. Her fingers threaded into his hair. Looking into her eyes, he leaned into her touch. A gentle smile flitted across her lips. 

They had only talked in the abstract about getting married, but last night… even the memory of the words they had shared filled his chest with warmth. 

“I love you, Zuko.” she rose to her tip toes and kissed him. Immediately he wrapped his arms around her waist, like an anchor. She broke the kiss, but stayed close. He circled his thumbs across the fabric of her tunic, but she reached down and took his wrist. 

“This,” Katara brushed her hand along the silk, “is a promise.”

He finally found his words, “It’s your mother’s Kat, I can’t take it away from you.”

She smiled, but the expression on her brow was insistent, “You're not taking it from me, I’m giving it to you.” She ran a thumb along the stone, “I trust you, Zuko, with this, and with my life, and our future together. I was never supposed to keep it forever. My grandmother gave it to my mother, my mother to me, and now I'm giving it to you.”

Her eyes shined, but there was no sadness in them. 

“And… maybe one day,” she raised a brow, “We’ll give it to our daughter.”

Zuko balked.

“In many years, of course!” her eyes went wide. His sigh of relief rustled her baby hairs. 

There was a knock at the door, they both jumped.

_“Ambassador Katara, if you’re in there, the ship to Ba Sing Se is leaving in thirty minutes.”_

Katara pouted. Zuko smiled at the expression.

“What will I do without you, while your off building hospitals in the Earth Kingdom?”

Once again she reached up, but this time her fingers ran all the way to behind his ear. 

“That’s another thing its good for,” she kissed him again, this time slower, “I’ll always,” she planted another kiss on his jaw, “be close.” her third kiss was the tip of his nose. 

He laughed, and pulled her against him. He buried his nose in her soft hair, and she couldn’t hold him tight enough.

“I’ll see you in ten months?” she whispered into his neck.

“In ten months.”

* * *

_A year and eleven months later..._

Katara had never seen a more beautiful morning. Though, she would enjoy it more if she had slept the night before.

For hours she laid in the dark until the sky turned gray outside her open balcony doors. Cool, damp wind blew through the sheer white curtains and caressed her face. Spring had stayed for longer than usual in the Fire Nation. The oppressive heat and humidity of summer had been delayed. Katara wondered if it was divine intervention, or dumb luck. 

She pulled the duvet, pale blue, up to her cheek, and snuggled closer into the cool white sheets. Once, she was under the impression that everything in the Imperial Palace was red or black, but on her first night as a formal guest of the Fire Lord (a phrase which made her chuckle every time she heard it) she had been lead into a sunny room, with slate gray wood walls, light maple furniture, and a lovely four poster bed with pretty blue bedding. A pile of pillows topped it in shades of lilac, periwinkle, and the softest green. 

Pale, watery light filled the room and softened the edges of her sleepless night. It filtered through the stacks of papers piled on her desk. 

For another moment she observed the dawn’s quiet beauty, then slowly sat up and stretched. 

It wasn’t like she would be getting any rest anyway.

The waterbender wrapped a red silk robe around her bindings and tied it securely around her waist. Slowly, she crossed the room and stilled at her reflection in the mirror. A young woman stared back at her. Curves, recovered from years of hardship, enhanced hard muscle. Wild, untamed, chestnut curls crowned her head and fell to her waist. Blue eyes turned clear in the coming light of day.

She was no longer the little girl, a wisp of skin and bone, who cradled the head of the last airbender, six years ago in the snow. She was a new creature. 

* * *

Katara found herself curled in the ancient roots of the willow tree, on the banks of the turtle duck pond. She had come to this place many times before, and it always cleared her mind, but the thoughts swirling around her countenance were a different beast this morning.

The sun was minutes away from crowning the gray hills in the distance, and the sky had turned the softest blue. The clouds above were tinged in pink and gold. 

The turtle ducks had just begun to wake up, and were quaking quietly to themselves. Chirping birds and the wind in the fresh leaves became the backdrop of her silent thoughts.

Katara watched the mist rise of the mirror-like surface of the pond. She reached out, feeling the gentle pull of the water in her navel, and curled it to her whim.

“I didn’t expect to find you out here so early.”

Katara started at the breaking of her silence, but then she smiled.

“Goodmorning, Uncle.”

Iroh smiled gently then gestured to the grass next to her, “May I sit with you?”

“Of course,” the older man nodded, and settled in a lotus position beside her.

“I usually have my morning tea out here, I would be honored if you joined me.”

As Katara nodded, Iroh pulled a teapot out of the small basket at his side, and handed her a cup. With a gentle smile he poured the steaming liquid. 

She took a sip and her chest grew warm.

“ _Mmm_ … what type of tea is this?”

“Gyokuro, very good for waking up,” he took his own sip, “though… it also does well for those who never went to sleep.” He gave her a pointed look. Sheepishly, Katara stared down at her tea, and then the pond.

“I couldn’t stop my mind from…” she waved a hand around her head, “spinning.”

“Often, the wills of the mind overcast the needs of the body.”

Katara sighed, and slouched a little, “Yeah.”

“Is there anything in particular you are worried about, Lady Katara?” Iroh’s expression was calm, and he topped off her tea cup. She sighed, then scoffed, 

“Besides the obvious?” 

“I prefer not to assume the apparent obvious, I’m too frequently incorrect in my assumptions.”

The sun had finally dawned over the mountains and the entire palace and gardens were lit up in brilliant gold. The red roof tops of Caldera City burned in the dawn. Katara pulled her knees closer to her chest and took a deep sip of tea. She knew Iroh would not pester her for a speedy response, so she took the time to collect her thoughts. The general just simply waited and drunk his tea, while he watched the surface of the pond sparkle like a jewel.

“It’s the wedding. Don’t get me wrong! I want to marry Zuko, I love him, and can’t imagine being without him, but there's so much… _pressure_.”

Iroh, just watched her, and waited for her to continue.

“I have to look perfect, and act perfect, and say all the right things. I have to bow to this person, and remember this person's name. There's so many customs and rules. What if I do something wrong? What if something crazy happens? Like assassins attack, or there’s a freak tornado?”

Katara’s voice had risen in volume and pitch as she went on, but now her words were quiet, and the hands gripping her tea cup trembled. “I know that there's people in this country who don’t like me. I hear them in the streets when I go shopping. They whisper behind my back at parties and announcements. ‘ _Southern Savage’_ … that’s a favorite… there was one woman I passed in a corridor that called me _‘Zuko’s Whore’_ ”. Tears slipped down her cheeks. Iroh’s expression darkened. 

“Does my nephew know of these impertinences?” 

Katara sniffled and wiped her cheek with the sleeve of her robe, “No, he has so much to worry about, and he can’t fix it anyway.”

“And I feel so stupid!” the waterbender threw a hand in the air, threatening ripples disturbed the pond, “I’m not some soft maiden. Usually, I would defend myself. One time in Ba Sing Se, some girls made fun of Toph and I sent them down the river! I challenged a waterbending master without any formal training. I started a prison riot. I defeated Azula. Iv’e fought assassins, and soldiers!” Katara hid her face behind her knees, curtains of hair blocking her tears from view, “But, I just freeze. _Every time_. My brain screams at me to do something, but I can’t, I just stand there like an idiot. Eventually, I remember that fighting wouldn’t have helped anyway, or changed help how people saw me, they'd just think I was even more of a _‘savage’_.” She spit the word out like poison, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I should stand up for myself, but..” she trailed off.

“Those things aren't true, Katara.”

“I know,” she turned to Iroh, resting her temple on her knee, “but, it’s hard to handle it. I’ve never been stoic, I’ve never been able to just ‘brush things off’. Like Mai, she gets all kinds of stuff thrown at her because she’s with Ty Lee, but she’s always the perfect noblewoman.”

“Just because your strengths differ from those valued by Fire Nation nobility doesn’t mean they’re less valuable.” A melancholic look over took his features, “my wife was very similar to you. She was raised in the colonies, born out of wedlock on top of it, but she too was never able to brush things off.”

“What did she do?” Katara turned her whole body in interest.

“She worked hard, she served the people, and was kind to everyone. She did so much good for the Fire Nation, before she died, that slowly the people who didn’t like her were the minority.”

Katara nodded. 

“And,” Iroh made a point to look her in the eye, “she confided in me, and we were able to get through it together. Tell my nephew, the next time something happens. Even if he can’t do anything about it, which would be a rare occurrence, he receives his own ridicule, as I’m sure you know. You two are stronger together. You and Zuko, both, have grown up having to fight for every scrap of respect” Iroh breathed in deeply, “and you must continue to do so. However, the arena has changed, Lady Katara. You have to rely on each other, and your natural strengths to navigate it.”

The general chuckled to himself, “and don’t worry about messing up at your wedding. Nothing can be worse then when my cousin spilled the entire puch bowl on his pride, then got so drunk he challenged her brother to and Agni Kai.”

Katara’s jaw dropped.

“Of course, the man was a non-bender, so the challenge was null and void. What I’m trying to say, is that the wedding doesn’t matter as much as what you do after. You have a strong heart and, most importantly, empathy. This country doesn’t need a noblewoman, it needs a warrior.”

The young waterbender was now looking back over the pond, her brow furrowed.

“Is there anything else on your mind, Lady Katara?”

She considered it. 

“What is it going to be like...being Fire Lady?”

Iroh took another sip of his tea, “I’ve never been one, so I can’t say that I know for sure,” she smiled, “but the most important thing to remember is that you are the most powerful person in the Fire Nation. That fact comes with privileges, but it also comes with responsibilities. You will swear the same oaths as Zuko. You are the mother of the nation.”

Oddly enough, that was the easy part to her. She had always been a caregiver. The memory of a small village on a river came to mind, of a little boy with a fish, and a veiled rice hat. She frowned, softly,

“What do you mean I’m the most powerful person in the Fire Nation? I thought that was Zuko, he’s the Fire Lord.”

Iroh shook his head swiftly, “My father and grandfather spun many lies about our customs and beliefs. They changed thousands of years of history to feed their own egos and suit their agendas, and to have unquestionable power. The Fire Lord and Lady are equal in power and in status, or at least they were before the War.” He turned to Katara, whose eyes had gone wide, “it is my understanding that Zuko will honor those ancient traditions.”

He continued, “You and Zuko have always been equals, even before he found his way. You are two sides to the same coin, moon and sun.You have always been matched in skill and mind. Similarly, The position of Fire Lady is the counterpart to the Fire Lord.”

“Yin and Yang.” Katara whispered. She reached up to the new pendant at her throat (so like her old one in weight and shape) and traced the familiar pattern engraved in luminescent green stone. She thought of a battle, so long ago. Katara had been so angry then, but her and Zuko… they had been equally matched. How many other times had they met on the battlefield and fought till a stand still. Even now, as friends, as more than that… they had always been on level footing. Never before had she hidden in Zuko’s shadow. He always recognized her strengths, and how they complimented his own weaknesses. Katara smiled to herself. Why would that change now?

 _You rise with the moon, I rise with the sun_.

Balanced.

She turned to Iroh, and bowed slightly, “Thank you, Un…” Katara paused to yawn wide, “...cle”

He smiled, and bowed back, “Tomorrow is your wedding day, not today, I believe you may have some time to rest your eyes.”

Katara nodded, yawning again, and stood. Before she left she wrapped Iroh in a tight hug. He responded in kind.

When Katara made it back to her room, she found her mind clear as she settled into bed. She was asleep before her head hit the pillow, her hand still resting on the engagement necklace around her neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! Make sure to read the prompt from yesterday, too! <3  
> (Also, follow me on tumblr for more Zutara content, and other forms of lame nerd stuff @trojantoast)


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